


Old Honeycomb

by HiddenEye



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Outsider, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Season/Series 04 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: “You can't be more obvious with your 1000 watt delight,” Matt mutters in disbelief, arms resting on the opened textbook. Even if the library's quiet as his great-grandfather's tomb, he can’t hear what Shiro’s saying. But, guessing from Keith’s guarded look, something tells him whatever pleasantries isn’t working. “Kid looks ready to bolt.”





	Old Honeycomb

The thing about their relationship is, despite all the months they've spent together in discussing the possibilities that could happen before shooting off for missions - running out of oil, sudden spike of hazardous activity going on the moon, alien abduction - Matt still doesn’t know where to put his foot whenever he and Shiro are in a room full of people.

This doesn’t include all those months in a large space station where it has only been the three of them operating the system's functions in order for everything to appear top notch. It's bumping into walls despite the space - _heh -_ they've given throughout their mission, thinking how things can be lonely when they don't exactly have things to do. But, Matt suppose it's better than being in a spacecraft, conquering the art of manoeuvres in order to avoid tumbling into someone.

He knows Shiro's a nice guy; top student, ace pilot, a heartthrob that becomes the reason why students are more than eager to join classes where he's involved. Because every time the word _Shirogane_ and _teaching_ is uttered on the first day of the blasted semester, a stampede would rampage through the hallways and sign up for that particular class.

Matt knows how it feels like being to be robbed of his own space for his own work; that would be the first and last time he's ever taking Shiro's classes again and honestly, Matt's better off where he doesn’t witness the whole lot of them sighing and swooning over how tight the uniform is on Shiro's ass whenever he's busy cleaning up the board.

That's when he's only the TA, things gets worse the moment he's been qualified of doing the real gig. From what Matt finds out, he's doing it for the sake of getting extra points to pilot out in space.

It's impressive. Matt saves a copy of his file before deleting every proof of his digging.

Yes, well, despite all of _that_ going on for his first few years at Garrison, the news of him being involved with Shiro _again_ gives him a minor pause.

Matt only ever knows the guy when he’s sending him assignments through e-mails or when he wants answers to a particular question that needs to be elaborated carefully. But, that's almost ages ago; meeting him personally - along with his father and other officers, of course - for their first mission makes Matt believe he should be formal enough when it comes to Shiro.

Other than being three years his senior, it's because he's still a measly cadet who should always salute the officers out of respect, or the _senior_ officers would be on their asses for being a slump.

With that, Matt gets the same ‘good-job-for-following-the-rules-cadet’ smile out of Shiro for the first couple of months before he’s comfortable enough to be with both Sam and Matt Holt alone, and _transforms_.

Not spectacularly, because that would be a shock to the system, and Matt has a hard time trying to believe that their composed and respectful pilot would come off as a goof when he wanted to.

He's only twenty then, who could have blamed him to let out some steam?

Thing is, Shiro does this when it's _only_ the three of them. His humour, for one, makes both Matt and Sam slip into a fit from laughing too much, and any references from every space related movies he could think off has been immensely enjoyable for nerds like them.

“This isn’t up for a debate,” Shiro says through a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. Thankfully, it's only both of them in the officer's lounge, files and tablets sprawled on the coffee table while they have their break. Matt isn't supposed to be there, but he already has a excuse of wanting a pilot's input if anyone asks. “No matter how many times people keep telling me wrong, I'll always, and _loyally_ , choose Star Trek.”

Matt makes a face, and throws a scrunched up tissue at his way. “Help me, Obi Juan, whoever the fuck you are,” Shiro catches the ball without looking up. “You're my only ho.”

“You're paraphrasing.”

“If Carrie Fisher said it, then it's in the movies, dude.”

Their first mission together has been assigned to Mars to bring back what samples they've gotten. The station there already has a handful of scientists working around, but Commander Holt wants a look of what they've found himself. He pulls Matt and Shiro into this, proclaiming how they're more than ready to start up the next step, and it isn’t until they're back on Earth that other people congratulate them for their work.

“You'll be the Princess Leia of this trio,” Matt says through quirked lips as he shakes hands with other officers, nodding absently to their compliments from where he stands beside Shiro. “I don’t make the rules. It just works that way,” He pauses for a split second. “Sir _._ ”

Shiro beams at Montgomery, somehow manages to speak at the corner of his mouth without anyone else noticing. “No way, cadet, I'm Commander Spock in this.”

Matt lets the hand slip from his grip and shoots Shiro a look. “Are you implying that I'm Lieutenant Uhura, sir?”

Shiro doesn’t reply, and turns his attention towards another officer with a short chuckle tumbling out of his lips.

They keep it between themselves. It's like witnessing the double life Shiro probably doesn’t want to create but has to anyway.

Expectations to live up and all; tedious, really. Matt’s glad he doesn’t have hounds breathing down his neck.

Sometimes, with no grace whatsoever, Shiro man-spreads at the office lounge with his fingers loosely wrapped around the third cup of coffee he’s stabilised on his stomach, head thrown on the back of the couch with his tablet exactly six inches away from his face.

It's one of those days where they would probably greet each other with a grunt or two before going to their respective places, minding their own business. But, that day decidedly becomes different the moment Shiro's opening his mouth.

“Did you know some kid just eliminated my scores?”

Matt, who has been buried in books to get through the rest of his semester in the library, squints at him through hazy floating numbers and equations. “Flight scores? Or your D&D scores?”

“Flight scores,” Shiro answers blandly, using one hand to scroll down the tab like a phone; which is supposed to be impossible when it's bigger and heavier; Matt tries it once and the thing falls flat on his forehead. But, naturally, Shiro tweaks the law of physics like he does with everything else in order to get his way. “Let’s see, who are you...”

“A kid? Like,” Matt drops himself beside him, forcing out a grunt from Shiro when he jumps slightly. “Freshie?”

“From what I heard, a junior. Two years younger than you, just moved in a month ago.”

Matt reaches for the cookie on the coffee table and settles back. “Kid came in and just,” a sweeping motion theoretically flicks away Shiro's scores into oblivion.

“Yeah.”

He takes a careful look at Shiro as he starts biting into his cookie, pondering on the little change that’s been dropped onto their lap. If word hasn’t been going around already, it’ll only be a matter of time before people would find out about this, since it’s not everyday someone just overcomes Takashi Shirogane’s scores. “And you're not bothered by this?”

“Of course I am. Who the hell manages to shoot through the records in a span of a month since he came here? Even I had to repeat that stage a few times. Not that I doubt someone's talent or hard work but,” for the first time since Matt came in, Shiro turns his head towards his way with raised eyebrows, a thoroughly impressed look on his face. “ _Damn._ ”

Matt’s beginning to notice the glint in those eyes before Shiro turns back towards his tablet, the very same one he usually sees whenever Shiro decides to do a little spin with the aircraft, and would resort in Matt having a possible heart attack.

He swallows the cookie down, mentally collecting himself for the inevitable. “Name?”

“Kogane, Keith.” Shiro stops abruptly at what Matt sees is the flight simulation records and leans forward to have a closer look. He lets out a low whistle.

“439? And what’s yours, 438?”

“428,” Shiro corrects him automatically, blinking owlishly at the score. It's then Matt watches with akin interest at how Shiro slowly rises up from his slouched position and blindly sets the cup on the surface of the table, not lifting his eyes from the tab as he begins opening the student profile.

“And now you're gonna check through his profile,” It's rare seeing Shiro as interested as this, and this is considering he’s been to space and back. “All because he left you in the dust. And, y'know,” Matt only watches him easily hack into another window, one that's been locked tightly and can only be opened under Iverson’s consent. “It's illegal to check on a student's personal info.”

“I'm curious. For all we know, this kid was trained to fly the moment he was born.”

“Like a wee lil’ birdy.”

“Like a wee lil’ birdy.” Shiro agrees under his breath, typing out Kogane’s name before tapping onto his profile picture. It’s been enlarged, and all details of what he looks like glares back at Matt with perfect furrowed brows and a suppressed scowl that looks as if the photographer's been relentlessly pushing him for a smile.

Somehow, it suits him. The dark, broody aura, he means.

Those violet eyes screams of dissatisfaction, and Matt taps his cheek with a finger from where he cups his chin. “He looks like a cat who doesn’t want a bath.”

Shifting his gaze to the side, he watches the exact moment Shiro is going to start something that Matt _knows_ he has no power to stop, because there's this unreadable look in his gaze as he continues to study the picture with complete intent. One finger is poised above the screen, ready to scroll down the page, but there's no attempt of him going through the intel.

Matt knows the look, and feels a wince coming on as he resigns to watch Shiro make a decision that would probably ensnare him to the hotshot kid for the rest of his life. “You're thinking of introducing yourself to him, aren’t you?”

Shiro leaves the page, and sadly, it's like watching a determined person signing an adoption form for a pet. “I'll think about it.”

That'll be a yes.

 

* * *

 

It turns worse as another month passed, because while Shiro tries to reach for the kid with an open palm, Keith snaps at his fingers without mercy.

The analogy is as close as it can get from where Matt doesn’t bother pretending to be invested in his work anymore, not when he watches the way Keith cautiously slips his hand into Shiro’s, staring warily at how he's giving him a friendly smile.

“You can't be more obvious with your 1000 watt delight,” Matt mutters in disbelief, arms resting on the opened textbook. Even if the library's quiet as his great-grandfather's tomb, he can’t hear what Shiro’s saying. But, guessing from Keith’s guarded look, something tells him whatever pleasantries isn’t working. “Kid looks ready to bolt.”

It's then Keith snaps his hand back to himself, lips suddenly pursed as he gives Shiro a jerky nod and a quiet ‘sir’ before he particularly makes a run for it. Matt's able to see the way he clutches the book on his side when Keith breezes past him; all stiff spine in his pristine new cadet uniform while he goes through the doors.

Matt sighs, mentally dragging his hand down the side of his face as he turns his head to where Shiro sits in front of him. “Your overly intimidating cheerfulness just scared the crap out of him.”

Shiro frowns, taking a small batch of grading papers from the tall stack. “I only wanted to congratulate him.”

“What did you even say to him? Word by word?”

“‘Congratulations on your sim scores, I'm looking forward to see you perform again in the future’?”

That's - right, okay. “That's it? That's all you said?”

“I wanted to say that it's been awhile since anyone broke record, but he left already.”

Matt leans back on his seat, pen tapping lightly on his book. “You came off too strong. He probably thought you were challenging him.” The thought makes a snort break free, his mind eye providing him the image of Shiro's beefy arms and the kid’s mostly-leg body. “Does he even _know_ who you are?”

“Does it even matter?” Shiro begins flipping open the papers. “You should've seen the footage of him performing; he hones all of his focus into deflecting obstacles, and those things would usually take the newly assigned cadets a while to handle. He passed that once with flying colours, as if he had done that for real.”

Matt remembers the complete calm on Keith's face through the feed, and the only emotions he’s shown is the tightness around his jaw whenever something isn’t in his favour.

He's single-minded, from what Matt knows, and his flaw is that he can’t talk to his engineers even if their lives depend on it. Keith makes decisions that results in most of his crew clutching onto the edge of their seats, doing stunts in a way that Matt feels empathy for the other kids.

No wonder Shiro's becoming invested in this; Keith's a direct cut from his cloth, only slimmer in size and pointy on the elbows.

“Maybe he has,” Matt shrugs when Shiro snaps his eyes up. “It’s not possible. Some people could pick up the trick early the moment they get their hands on the machine, or some just experienced it the easy way.”

Shiro leans back on his seat, expression deadpan. “The easy way usually involves illegal driving.”

“Look, buddy. I’ve seen kids riding hoverbikes at the age of ten. Maybe he's not any different.”

“Are you implying he’s done illegal racing to be this good?”

“Not racing, per say. More like zipping down the neighbourhood road until someone throws a shoe at him to quit the noise. A delinquent could be good if he does it right. Which means, not involving the cops.”

Shiro holds his stare, pen tapping the paper lightly. “What if he knows what's he's doing and it doesn't involve breaking the law? What are you gonna say about that?”

Matt lays out another possibility and yet Shiro doesn’t look interested in digging into that any deeper. Granted, it's an accusation more than anything, but the kid’s stunt would raise so many questions to how he beat record that, in the end, most people would choose the easy way and blame Keith for breaking the law.

Cheating in a simulator, for an example, has been a weight hanging on Shiro's shoulders ever since he blazes through the scoreboard with his pinky in the air.

The kid really is a mirror to what Shiro stands.

“What are you gonna do about this?” Matt already knows what's rolling inside Shiro's brain, but he's just being courteous at this point. Contrary to how he's avoiding the question in the first place. “Mentor him?”

“If Keith agrees,” Shiro lifts one shoulder, a neutral enough shrug that has Matt shoot both eyebrows up in suspicion. “And when he does, we'll get started.”

Which means, Shiro’s already taking the initiative of asking Iverson to put Keith under his wing, providing the fact that he should give the captain something in return.

“What deal did you made this time?”

Because the last one has been scarily efficient, Matt recalls, and _vehemently_ Shiro. Said man must've remembered, because he has the cheek to be shameless with a single blink. “I'm doing this for a hopeful influx of great pilots in the future.”

Matt scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest. “You seriously want me to believe that?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Matt only stares at him, and Shiro merely takes another paper to grade. “Garrison’s been trying to breed out the best pilots since day one. In order to do that, we’re supposed to find the ones with the most potential and train them until they know whatever we're dealing with up in space would be just one of the everyday things you’d do in life. Normalizing and letting it become a habit. It's the biggest tick in the box, and doing that should be an achievement itself because you're basically surrendering whatever you have to make sure everything is what should be done.”

“I still don’t see how -”

“That being said,” Shiro cuts him off, voice low as his eyes scans for anyone who might pass by. “I’ve been offered a place as a pilot on one of the upcoming missions.”

Matt blinks at him, his mind quickly connecting the dots and - is it really -?

“But, what I'm doing for Keith is because I believe he really can get through this,” he continues, settling his gaze on him this time, and Matt feels determination weighing heavily from it. “This is just not for my benefit. I know he can do better than I ever can, and I want to see that happening in front seats.”

It's expected, Matt thinks. Iverson’s been sniffing for successors ever since Shiro graduated a couple of years ago - or so his dad told him, and it’s only good luck that he hasn't become restless from the lack of it.

“Give it another few years,” Sam once says, a shrug accompanying his words from where he writes on the black board, chalk staining his fingertips. “And you'll able to witness his hair loss live.”

Samuel Holt’s old fashioned, more hands on. While he appreciates all the new technology going around, he prefers getting his hands dirty. It’s proof of his complete passion in doing his work, the soothingness and delicacy in every shift of movement and thought.

“You should've seen him before Shiro came along,” he continues, chuckling as he shakes his head slightly. Matt remembers standing beside him, book in hand as he watches numbers and equations make themselves at home on the dark surface. “We were taking bets on who would bring him to the infirmary if he suddenly dropped on the floor.”

“Who had the honours in the end?”

The smile twists wickedly. “Jackson.”

Jackson’s their head counsellor, and of course, who would be better than taking care of someone in need than their assigned therapist?

Not that it has anything to do with the fact that most officers find him annoying.

“He’s a bit closed off, don't you think?” Matt comments as Shiro goes back to grading. “Never thought I'd see the living embodiment of ‘lone wolf’ but,” he gestures flippantly over his shoulder. “There you go.”

“He just needs time adjusting to a new place.”

“It’s been three months.”

Shiro hums noncommittally. “Some take longer than others.”

It's not like Matt can argue with him anyway, not when it looks as if Shiro's got an answer to sling back at him to every possible problem about Keith.

 

* * *

 

Granted, it does take a longer time for Keith to warm up at the idea of the two of them hanging out with him, but he does loosen up a bit, and Matt thinks it's a job well done.

Splendidly, he thinks - if the way Keith can't stop looking at Shiro like _that_ has anything to say about it, as if the older man plucks the stars from the skies and presents them to him with a knee on the ground.

It's almost pitiful, because Keith doesn’t have the guts to actually say what his purple doe-eyes screams after two years worth of friendship.

What's worse is that Shiro looks at Keith with the same type of affection the younger currently bleeds out; but Matt isn’t sure it’s on the same par as Keith's, if there’s attraction reflecting in Shiro's look like it does in Keith's. Because Shiro admires Keith as much as the younger man does to him, only it doesn't glare outrightly like a freshly cut diamond threatening to blind them all.

Matt sees all of this as he props his feet against the armrest of the bench, taking the whole space with his legs stretched out in front of him while having a straw in his mouth, his cup of milkshake sweating in his hand.

The other two settle for sitting on the side of the pavement, facing him with the bikes they rode to town perched behind them, blocking most of the setting sun from scorching Matt's eyes.

Shiro's wearing his ridiculously tight vest and long grey shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows, fingerless gloves on, explaining their process for Kerberos. Keith's looking at him with the type of softness that usually exists during the time Sam Holt decides to dance with his wife in the middle of the kitchen.

It usually dissolves into bubbles of laughter and affectionate kisses; Colleen uttering her love in the glow of their home. But from how Keith's using his hand to lean onto his weight while gently nibbling on his straw rather than drinking his beverage, eyes molten with raw adoration and a small smile quirked at the corner of his lips - and, well, that's as close as it can get.

Seeing all of this up close is the same as stumbling into the kitchen.

Letting his eyes flicker towards Shiro again, something churns uncomfortably deep in Matt's stomach at how things won’t end well if they keep up like this, and he damn well sure he doesn't want to witness them all hurt and hating each other in the end.

Matt takes a loud slurp of his milkshake to shake the feeling off, right until he winces from the sharp sting of brainfreeze.

“I was hoping for a co-pilot, to be honest,” Shiro says, stirring his milkshake through the transparent dome-shaped cover. “Working together. If I'm suddenly out cold then we wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

“Just because my dad and I are mostly ground-work people, doesn’t necessarily mean we don't know the basics of flying a spacecraft.” Matt eyes the yellow drink Shiro sips, judgeful. “And jackfruit makes you fart all over the damn place.”

“You don't diss on this when you haven’t even tried it.”

“The fruit’s only good on it's own.”

Shiro rolls his eyes to the back of his head until his lashes flutter, before taking a pointed slurp. “You're so _boring_.”

Matt stretches out a foot to push him over, but Shiro merely avoids it by leaning into Keith more, who snorts as he lets himself be pushed by Shiro's larger frame. “You're being modest.”

Shiro quirks an eyebrow at him, straightening himself up. “I'm not.”

Keith only shrugs back. “Everyone knows you're more than capable of piloting a ship to Kerberos alone, or you wouldn’t even be elected in the first place.” Then, he gives this look that points out the person's stupidity. “So, stop being modest. You deserve it.”

Shiro chuckles, ruffling Keith’s hair. “Elected, huh? Sounds like I'm going to be the President or something instead of blasting off to space.”

“The honour’s still there.” Keith says almost too casually - and Shiro let's his palm clasp onto his nape, fingers buried loosely in thick raven hair.

Matt watches this carefully, tracing the strangled reaction Shiro dons at Keith’s statement; mouth agape slightly, eyes widening just a fraction more.

It takes a moment for Shiro to search for a response, staring at Keith with words nowhere for him to reach. Thing is, Keith meets his look with a loaded one of his own; a dare unspoken, one that edges for Shiro to deny what he says when he _knows_ the truth in his sentence.

“You're going to the furthest place mankind has ever attempted,” Keith continues, but his tone lowers with the same intensity they've brewed between them. “Even the President doesn’t have the guts to do that. That deserves some applause, don't you think?”

“You're putting me up on pedestal here, buddy.” Shiro replies blithely, still holding onto Keith while having his gaze locked onto those flashing purples shamelessly. “Like I'm supposed to have a competition with one of the strongest people in the country, but nah.” He leans back, the spell breaking, and his hand slides to his shoulder as a wry smile quirks at the corner of his mouth. “You'll be joining me up there after I get back from this one.”

“Iverson’s been itching to kick me off the planet, anyway,” Keith says dryly - refusing to look away, cup forgotten between his fingertips. “If that happens, it'll be great, because I'll finally be out of his hair.”

“Or what's left of it.” Matt reminds them of his presence by reaching back and shoving his empty cup into the dustbin, trying not to scoff when they whip their heads up to look at him. “Ever since _you_ came in,” he points at Keith with a finger. “You've been screwing up statistics because of the inhuman things you got after _him,_ ” the tip of his finger moves to Shiro. “And that doesn’t include the stunts you did that he couldn't.”

Shiro wraps an arm around Keith, pulling him nearer with a grin apparent. “You challenging me, Holt?”

“Shirogane,” Matt lets his hand drop onto his stomach, grimacing. “You’re a nuisance. I know it, Keith knows it. Only he doesn’t care and bounds after you like a lost lamb.”

“I'm not a lost lamb.” Keith protests from under Shiro's hold.

“Kid, stop being in denial and accept it how it is.”

It's a direct hit, but Shiro laughs and messes up his hair again, locking him into a right grip that looks as if he isn't letting go any soon. Squawking indignantly, Keith finds his arms squashed between their bodies, before he tries to push Shiro away with a press of his palms against his side, his own laughter escaping past his lips.

The two of them can't be more disgusting than this; grunting and shoving each other in public instead of admitting their affection towards the other like normal people.

Matt only slouches in his bench more, reminding himself to bring earphones next time they hang out.

 

* * *

 

They're allowed to show family members the place before take off; a given opportunity just as people trickle in to see them, a private moment given for last minute goodbyes before they're chased by reporters and timelines.

Family members or people considered as good friends. Rules are not too tight when it comes to this.

Shiro’s standing near the rocket, hidden somewhere under the shadows with Keith beside him, their backs facing to where Matt is after taking pictures with his family.

When Keith turns to look at Shiro properly, Matt knows he’s intruding again.

He can see a smile on Shiro's face, and then, he's pulling Keith into his embrace while they clutch onto each other tightly, almost as if they never want to let go.

The moment burns into his mind even after they're suited up, helmets in their arms. Matt lets Shiro walk ahead as cameras flash from every corner, people cheering for their upcoming success.

It's almost like a dream, and Matt gives them a smile as they walk out of the hallway.

He takes a deep breath, and feels the way his seat shakes as their rocket blasts off the ground.

It's days after their spacecraft docks on the space station; checking the oxygen and fuel levels, recounting the number of facilities they have and what's enough to fit in the samples they're going to take, their food supplies - before it's time they sleep for a few months until they arrive Kerberos.

“Sometimes, I wish this mission wasn't so secret that every communication ties were cut off,” Matt admits, tapping on the screen at the end of the pod, its cover sliding open to reveal the insides filled with water and a dark canvas for a single body to lay down. “It'll be great to send some messages.”

“They can't risk any leakage of info,” Sam says, the last one to change into the white outfit they've been provided as he strolls towards him. “It’s the best if it's like this.”

“Yeah, but I'm stuck with the two of you for the next year.” Matt mutters.

Shiro nudges him in the shoulder as he pass, a bud shoved into his ear as he holds onto his old iPod. “You've been stuck with me for years and you're complaining now?”

“I've been complaining for years but you're too blind and deaf to notice it.”

“Ouch, Matthew, right in the heart.”

Sam shakes his head, making his way inside the pod. “Get some sleep. We have a long way ahead of us.”

“Yeah.” Matt watches how Sam settles himself carefully onto the canvas, lying perfectly horizontal with his hands on his stomach before he sinks a little deeper into the pod, the cover sliding perfectly into place before automatically locking it for safety.

Matt checks his father’s condition, making sure everything appears stabilised. “If this works out the way we want it to be, you're going to come clean with Keith.”

Shiro pauses from where he's keeping his iPod into one of the compartments, confusion etching on his expression as he lifts his head up. “Come clean with what?”

The space station is quiet from where Matt only studies the achingly truthful look on his friend’s face, before he makes a move to the pod next to Sam’s. “With whatever you two have that won't be said.”

It's the _bleep_ of the screen that fills in the strained silence between them, before he hears the sound of the compartment being locked into its place and footsteps padding towards him. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't insult me like this,” Matt warns, eyes flickering up to where Shiro hovers beside him. “You know what's going on, and it's making a potential mess if you don't say anything to him.”

“You know why I can't say anything about it.”

“But then, you’re admitting there’s something going on in the first place.” Shiro purses his lips at this, not looking away from Matt's prodding look. He sighs. “Come on, Shiro. I’ve seen how you two do this intimate bonding thing but won't admit what you want. And it's killing you both, you know that right?”

“Intimate bonding,” Shiro repeats under his breath, ripping his gaze away to look at the opening pod. “I'll get in first.”

“I'm not allowing you to avoid it forever.” Matt declares as Shiro makes his way into the pod, settling thoroughly by lying down.

He gives Matt a crooked smile. “Grill me about this the moment we touch down Earth again.”

And then, the cover closes over him.

Rubbing the side of his face, Matt makes his way towards his own pod, sighing in exasperation.

 

* * *

 

They never get the chance, of course, not after they’ve been separated after the little play Shiro does in order to prevent his ass from being grated on the floor of the arena.

After being saved by some freedom fighters, training under their eye for the next year and a half later, Matt’s already hacking into the Galra communication systems to obtain info that might uproot Zarkon from a ten-thousand-year-old war.

He's already settled into this, already knows how it goes when the news of Voltron defeating the tyrant comes and goes like the wind itself.

But, Zarkon’s raised from the dead again like a zombie on drugs. Pidge, who's supposed to be light years away on their home planet and clean from any Galra touch, finds him in one of the bases he's been working on, all in her paladin glory with a giant green lion on her side. What's best is that all the wars he hears of Voltron for the past months, and his _sister_ has something to do with it.

It's amazing and he's proud of her.

What he doesn’t expect, but mostly hopes until it becomes a frequent burn at the back of his head, is seeing Shiro again.

A lot happens in the year they’ve been separated, the change is obvious in the white forelock he has and the scar that stretches on the bridge of his nose, the stressed lines that appears below his eyes, as well as the metal arm he currently has.

Matt goes through similar physical changes as well, sans the premature hair and new arm, but what surprises him the most is how he’s grown a lot more than he expects the last time he stands beside Shiro.

And that brings him immense joy, since he’s not the shortest one this time among the group of people he’s found.

It's great when he sees actual _humans_ again after a while, but it just brings back to the time when he doesn’t know how to behave with Shiro when people are around them.

“Sir, huh?” Shiro questions once they're left alone at the lounge, where Matt finally gets to rest after Pidge shows the whole castleship under one sitting. When he lifts his head from the back of sofa, he's able to see the amused smile on his long lost friend’s face. “Haven't heard you say that in a while.”

“Don't get your hopes up. I didn't know how you wanted me to address you in front of them after the double life you had.”

Shiro cocks an eyebrow. “What double life?”

Matt makes a face at him. “You gotta stop asking things you know the answer to.”

“I honestly don’t know what you're talking about.”

He's about to snark back a reply when he stops himself at the look Shiro wears.

It's the same look he has during that time at the space station, only this curiosity looks more guilty than anything, as if he wants to know what's going but doesn't remember what it is, and he can't help but ask others to refresh the forgotten memory.

Matt realises his condition, of the things Shiro goes through during his time as Champion. Only he doesn't know how bad it is until he sees the desperate look Shiro currently tries to hide under the casual pose he’s currently in, wanting to appear as normal as he could be.

“You were a star in Garrison,” Matt starts, pushing himself to an upright position until he has his elbows perched on his knees. “People respected you for what you did, they like that you were bringing up the Garrison name. You were nice to them, had a lot of fans, so and so.”

“The double life,” Shiro repeats his words, more distracted with the notion of it than with his old status. “I was one person in front of them and another in front of you?” He snorts. “Seems two-faced.”

“No, you were more closed off to them despite being the nicest guy on the planet. But, you were more honest with us.”

Shiro looks like he's slicing the words open, digesting them thoroughly, before asking, “Us?”

“Me, Dad.” Matt shrugs. “Keith.”

Shiro stays quiet at this, and Matt leans back against the sofa again, resting his slotted fingers on top of his stomach. “Speaking of Keith, you think he's gonna freak out when we say we've been abducted by aliens?”

It's meant to be a joke, because they have a lot to catch up and he's tired of explaining human humour to his alien peers at the bases he's been assigned to. But then, Shiro let's out a bark of laughter. “He's here.”

Matt feels his smile falling from his lips at the same time something heavy drops to the bottom of his stomach. “Here? What do you mean by _here?_ ”

The wicked glint is all too familiar in his eyes, and Shiro shrugs far too casually. “Maybe not in the castle, since Keith can't join us at the moment when he's doing missions with the Blade of Marmora. But, he calls us sometimes whenever he’s free, or comes over if Kolivan feels like delivering news in person. Which is supposed to be later, apparently.”

“You make it sound as if we're having a damn slumber party.” Matt mutters, causing Shiro to chuckle again when he sinks deeper into the sofa. “Fuck. He's here too? What the hell is he doing up here?”

“Destiny.” Shiro monotones.

“‘Destiny’ my _ass_ , he shouldn't even be included in this mess.” Matt huffs, combing his hair with his fingers, before realisation zaps into his veins as he snaps his head up to look at Shiro. “Wait, isn't the Blade a ‘Galra only’ association?”

It's then Shiro hesitates for a while, the sheer emotion of being uncomfortable just glares back at him openly, clearly not wanting to tell Matt what he knows. “Well -”

“No way,” Matt sits up with a rigid spine, pointing an accusing finger towards his way. “Don't tell me your boyfriend’s a _fucking_ alien.”

Shiro freezes, a funny expression passes his face before he forces it into something more neutral. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No wonder he's so _stupidly_ good at flying! He’s an _alien,_ an alien whose species are more war inclined and are threatening to take over several universes, but an alien nonetheless.” Letting out a wheezing laugh, Matt slumps against the sofa again with his hands gripping onto his hair. “It all makes perfect sense now.”

“He’s good at flying because he just is.”

“Of course, you'd protect your boyfriend, but I seriously think his genes contribute in the crazy flying.”

Shiro frowns. “Matt -”

“It’s settled, we know why he's like that now.” Matt bounds up, tossing a loose salute and a wink towards his way, taking his leave. “And, when Keith arrives, kiss him on the cheek for me.”

Shiro grumbles under his breath just as the doors slide open. “You were my _brother,_  Anakin,” he calls out, the exaggerated version of betrayal underlying his tone. “I _loved_ you.”

“Save that for Keith.”

When Matt glances over his shoulder to gloat, it's to catch the wince that crosses Shiro's face just before the doors close.

Honestly, he doesn’t even want to know what happened in the past for Shiro to make that kind of pained expression, especially if it has anything to do with Keith.

 

* * *

 

The attempt is obvious.

It doesn’t make it anymore reassuring, though.

Instead, Matt is only going to quietly thank Lotor for preventing his friend’s life from being used as an energy booster.

He’s angry for letting this happen, for the situation they’ve been forced to be in until it takes the exiled Galra Prince to help them.

What would happen if he hasn't made an appearance? Would Keith's plan even be enough to shut down the energy field?

Speculations, consequences.

There’s nowhere of them knowing the possible future, and yet, he's glad with what has been given to them.

He only hates the results has to be more complicated than it should be.

“What was he thinking?” Matt murmurs as he docks into the castle hangar, the firefighter’s engines shutting down under his command with a loud hum.

The team won't be happy once they find out what Keith does to protect their asses.

Matt can hear the echo of their congratulations, where the impact of Lotor’s laser beam still rings in his ears while they think it's been Keith's effort that makes the shield shut down. They won't know he plans to use himself as a way to break it down, they won’t know the sacrifice he's willing to make.

He swallows the bile down when he hops out of his ship, landing on his feet with a loud thud as their remaining men follows suit.

The amount left is pitiful, and Matt snaps his head to where Lotor’s massive ship dwarves the others surrounding him.

He hears footsteps coming up behind him, and tries not summon his staff when the person speaks, “What is he doing?”

Glancing to the side, he sees Keith watching what he knows is the rebel fighters waiting for the prince to grace them with his presence - and Matt takes his time to study the way sweat makes his bangs stick to his forehead, his shoulders lifting with every breath he takes, as if he's trying to calm himself down after what he's done.

“You should be asking yourself that when you decided to become a missile,” Matt doesn’t give him the opportunity to speak the moment Keith opens his mouth to argue and barrels on. “There was a chance the impact would be just _that_ against the shield, Keith; a fucking impact. You're willing to sacrifice yourself for only a _probability-?_ ”

“Even if it means to protect my team and the galaxy from being destroyed?” Keith snaps, fire blazing in his eyes. “What do you think? And you said it yourself, there was a _probability_ the shield could go down if I did what I had to do. I _had_ to make that decision before there was none.”

“It could be a waste,” Matt hisses, angry at how lightly Keith thinks of his own life, of how he’s more than accepting of it when there's only the slightest chance and not a hundred percent assurance. “You would have died for _nothing_ and it'll bring an imbalance to the team, Keith. What were you-”

“I would have died for _everything,_ ” Keith growls, and Matt sees the way his fists curls tightly on his sides. “I would die knowing that it'll keep the universe safe, not fucking it up like I did in -”

He catches himself, breathing heavily through his nose as the door to Lotor’s ship opens, and numerous rebel fighters quickly file in to grab the Galra Prince. He doesn't say a word as they put him in handcuffs, nor does he wants to escape as they tug him forward to bring him to where the others would be waiting at the bridge.

Lotor catches their eye from across the room. With a single blink, he turns away and follows what he's told, letting the large doors shut close behind them.

Matt feels his chest burn when he faces Keith properly, where the man has already controlled his breathing as his eyes remain where Lotor has gone.

He's still guilty of what he's done in the past, and what insecurities Matt thought Keith overcame only comes back in full force.

“You're our friend, Keith,” he says quietly. “You're not indispensable, and we need you more than you think you deserve.”

There’s a hitch of a breath, before Keith grinds his jaw tightly until Matt is able to see the muscle jumping from the strain. And then, he's storming out of the place without another word, avoiding people walking about before he disappears through the same doors Lotor goes through.

It's after they prod and demand Lotor’s goal - Team Voltron, the Blade, leaders and captains alike are present to see. Their shoulders still remain raised and on alert as they let the rebel fighters bring him out of the room and put him in one of the cells, none of them relaxed even when the prince is gone.

One by one, all of them make their leave, until it's only the paladins and Coran left, along with Matt while his captain gives him permission to stay a little longer for moral support.

But when he gives a swift scan of the room, Shiro and Keith are nowhere to be seen.

He excuses himself with a mutter, already knowing where they might be, and leaves.

It only takes him to turn into another hallway when he hears people talking; angry voices that tries to keep their tone to the minimal, to avoid attractions from others.

Matt leans against the wall, hiding himself from view.

Again, he intrudes.

“- can't expect me to just sit back and let people _die_ , Shiro.” Keith hisses. “I had to do what's best for the universe -”

“You were going to get yourself _killed_.” In all those years of friendship, Shiro has never spoken as angrily as he is at the current moment. Never to Keith. “There would be other ways in taking down a forcefield, but crashing headfirst -”

“Was the _only_ option available when we were in the heat of a battle.” Keith snarls back. “If you think there was another way to take it down, then where were you, Shiro? Where was Voltron when people needed it most?”

“We were trying to get to you as fast as we could. Excessive gravity was pulling us down, and it took us longer than we hope to break free. But, that's an excuse none of us wants to hear. Why can't you find another way to bring down the shield without using yourself as a variable?”

“Because there was nothing else to spare in the first place! Why can't you understand that?”

“Listen to me,” Shiro growls, and a body thudding against the wall makes Matt grip onto his staff, as if a fight would surface. When he takes a peek, he sees the way Shiro clutching onto Keith's arms tightly, the younger man’s back flat on the wall. “You're part of this team too, and I can't have you jumping into situations without thinking thoroughly -”

“You think I didn't know this? You think I'd just blindly crash into things like a no-brainer?” Keith has his hand gripping on the front of Shiro's armour, bringing their faces together until they're almost nose-to-nose. “We lost men to a single laser beam, I wasn't going to lose more than I already had when most of them were already under my command. My instinct took over then, and it had to be done.”

“It was a _suicide_ mission,” Shiro whispers harshly, eyes wide with pain. “Why can't you understand that?”

“And why can't you understand that I’m doing what’s been expected?” Keith says, his voice breathless at the end; there’s a glimmer in his look, as if he's holding back his frustration as he continues to hold onto the man in front of him, both of them on the brink of collapsing. “It's part of the job description, Shiro, I can't do anything about it.”

It's another confession on its own, where he can't promise the things he would have to do when the time comes; they both know this like their lives themselves and yet, it still brings the expected disagreements.

“You make everything seem so damn easy, you know that?” Shiro leans forward and rests his forehead against Keith's, where the man let's out a shuddering breath as he tightens his grip onto him. “Everything. It's been driving me up the wall since the first time I met you.”

No words come to Keith as he lets his eyelids flutter closed, breathing heavily in and out with every rise and fall of his shoulders. One of the hands that's been holding onto his arms slides up and cradles his nape, where Shiro presses his nose against his cheek and takes a shaky breath himself.

“I don't want to lose you,” Shiro says quietly between them, and Matt looks away from the scene, letting his staff shrink back into its smaller size. “Not again.”

Matt begins walking away, trying hard to ignore their conversation.

“I love you,” is what Keith desperately chokes out, and the sharp exhale is the only response Matt hears before he turns around another corner; away from them, and away from the bridge.

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since Matt made an appearance, I started to love him too lmao so I decided to write something about our two lovebirds from his point of view
> 
> It's the first time I wrote something about him, I hope the characterisation is okay and I hope you enjoyed it!


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